


The Two Gentlemen of Ba Sing Se

by Brokenpitchpipe



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ba Sing Se, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gen, The Jasmine Dragon (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26396815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brokenpitchpipe/pseuds/Brokenpitchpipe
Summary: “Well?” Jet presses, prodding his hook sword closer and closer to Sokka's throat. “Are you covering for him? Working with him? If you’re not friends, then what are you?”“He’s my,” Zuko says, and visibly has to force the next word out, “boyfriend.”
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 278





	The Two Gentlemen of Ba Sing Se

_“He’s a firebender, I’m telling you!”_

Boomerang in hand, Sokka sprints down the street and nearly shreds the soles of his shoes as he careens around the corner to see—

To be honest, he’s not really surprised to see Zuko at this point. Sure, he has no idea how Zuko managed to find them in Ba Sing Se, but it’s not completely unexpected. 

No, what catches him off guard is the fact that Zuko’s hair is short now. And he's wearing an apron.

It’s a worker’s apron for a teashop, he realizes as he catches his balance and stands stupidly still in the middle of the street. A handful of Ba Sing Se citizens surround him, watching the commotion. Most of them are looking awkwardly away, a few look interested, and one brandishes two tiger hook swords directly at Zuko. 

Sokka blinks, his boomerang half-forgotten. “Jet?”

Jet jumps about a mile. Sokka tries not to feel too proud of himself; Katara may be the more dangerous between the two of them, but he likes to think _he’s_ the one Jet hates most. 

“Sokka?” Jet and Zuko say at the same time. Sokka clamps his fingers harder around his boomerang. Jet and Zuko stare at one another. “You _know_ him?” they say, again in unison. 

Jet’s eyes widen, and he takes two angry steps towards Sokka. “Sokka,” he says, “I don’t know how you know Lee—” _Lee?_ “— but I’ve been watching him for weeks now. He’s a firebender, I’m sure of it.”

“You’re wrong,” Zuko says. And it’s not like they’re buddies or anything, Sokka hasn’t spent hours around the campfire listening to Zuko spin stories about his childhood. But he’s heard enough of Zuko’s voice to recognize what it sounds like when he’s angry— which seems like pretty much always. 

Except right now, he’s not. Angry Zuko yells, and Zuko’s not yelling. His voice is low and tight, his jaw is clenched. He’s frowning so hard that Sokka’s surprised he doesn’t already have wrinkles, and his hands are on his swords but he hasn’t drawn them yet. 

No, he’s not angry. He’s scared. 

Jet swishes one of his tiger hook swords at Zuko again in warning. “Shut up,” he snarls. “Say one more word and I won’t hold back.” One of his hook swords catches the light of a nearby lantern, glinting dangerously. 

Well, it would probably seem dangerous to anyone but Zuko. Jet and his oversized fishhooks wouldn’t stand a chance against Zuko, firebending or no firebending. Whatever Zuko’s afraid of, it’s not physical harm. And the only other possibility is, apparently, being outed as a firebender. Which makes absolutely _zero_ sense, but it’s literally the only explanation. 

“Sokka,” Zuko says, in a voice that Sokka has never heard him use before. It’s like he’s just _talking_ to him, instead of yelling or screaming or… yeah, no, yelling and screaming are pretty much the only two things he does around Sokka.

“Uh,” Sokka says. He’s still trying to process the fact that Jet and Zuko are both in Ba Sing Se, the fact that they know each other now for some reason, and the fact that _Zuko’s wearing an apron._

“Tell Jet he’s wrong about me,” Zuko pleads. Sokka can hear it, it’s actual pleading. And he blinks in amazement as he watches Zuko’s face do this thing that looks wildly out of character, this sort of sheepish-desperate-apology-face that tries to tell a fifty-page novel in a second. Whatever’s happening, Zuko’s been through some _shit._

“Sokka, don’t listen to him,” Jet growls. “I know we’ve had our differences but I’m telling you, he’s a firebender, and he’s going to burn down Ba Sing Se.”

“I’m _not,”_ Zuko insists. “I’ll give you a fight, if that’s what you want.” He grips his swords again, but still doesn’t draw them. Again, Sokka has to take a minute to process the fact that Zuko, apparently, doesn’t want to fight. Which is _crazy._

To Tui and La with it, Sokka has to know what’s going on. 

“Jet, calm down,” he says. “Lee’s not a firebender.” 

Sokka watches Zuko’s knuckles turn white out of the corner of his eyes. Obviously he hadn’t thought this little lie would work, which makes it so hilarious to watch him realize Sokka’s actually playing along. 

Jet grits his teeth. “I’m sure he’s put on a good show of being a non-bender,” he says, “but I’m _telling you—”_

“Jet, stop,” Sokka says firmly. “If Lee was a firebender, I would know, okay?”

“How would you _know?”_ Jet frowns. “He wasn’t with the rest of your gang when we met. Are you even friends?” 

“Well—” Sokka hesitates, and then resists the urge to kick himself. He’s usually pretty fantastic at lying, but his brain puts up a firm wall at the prospect of calling Zuko his _friend._ Jet catches it in an instant and takes a step forward, now aiming his hook sword at Sokka instead. Sokka throws his hands up, stepping back. He really, really doesn’t want to start trouble here, not in this weird city with its weird people and its weird… _weirdness._

“Well?” Jet presses, prodding his hook sword closer and closer. “Well what? Are you covering for him? Are you working with him? If you’re not friends, then what are you?”

“We’re—” Sokka stammers. “We’re— uh—” 

“We’re dating,” Zuko says. 

Everything stops. The crowd stops murmuring. The cat owls prowling the rooftops stop hooting. Sokka’s brain stops working. 

Jet’s little hay stem falls from his mouth and lands between his feet. He keeps his hook swords up. “What,” he says fatly, staring at Zuko.

“He’s my,” Zuko says, and visibly has to force the next word out, “boyfriend.” 

Jet slowly slides his gaze to Sokka, wordlessly asking for an explanation. 

“Uh,” Sokka says. “Yep. Good ol’ boyfriend. Right here.” He tries to smile. It doesn’t work. 

“We were _trying_ to keep it under wraps,” Zuko growls, and hey, good use of his natural strengths. He sounds much more convincing like this, angry and sullen and done with everything. Sokka almost gives him a thumbs-up, but given the fact that Jet’s standing a foot away, it’s probably not a good idea.

“Yeah,” Sokka sneers instead, sticking his tongue out at Jet. “Thanks a _lot.”_

Jet looks at Zuko, then at Sokka, then back to Zuko, back to Sokka. “What?” he says again.

Sokka tries a different tactic. “Are you freaked out by this? Do Earth Kingdom people have weird dating customs?” Sokka asks, frowning at him. “Because where I’m from, guys date guys all the time.” 

This, of course, is a baldfaced lie. Or, at least, it’s an uneducated one. The Southern Water Tribe is so tiny that he can count the number of couples he knows on his hands, and none of them are, well, _yknow._

Though he doesn’t know what goes on on those ships full of able-bodied men overseas. 

Regardless, he’s confident about the fact that at least a handful of people from his home would have something to say about it if he suddenly decided he wanted to make goo-goo eyes at another guy. 

Speaking of goo-goo eyes, Zuko’s staring at him. 

“Lee,” Sokka says, trying to salvage this burning wreck. “You didn’t tell me there was a weird tradition here against guys dating other guys. What gives?”

“I didn’t know,” Zuko says, and there goes that plan of pretending he’d met Zuko here in town. “My uncle and I came here as refugees, remember?” He says the last part with an obvious edge to his voice.

So his uncle’s here too. The guy had seemed pretty nice, and he’d been pretty badly wounded the last time they’d seen him. Sokka’s honestly relieved to hear that he’s okay, or at least well enough to have made it to Ba Sing Se. “Right,” Sokka says. “Well. That makes sense. This place is, uh, weird.” He checks for Zuko’s reaction. Honestly, it might be kind of nice to have someone this badass on his side in case the city’s weirdness turns from quirky weird into really-freaky weird.

What is he thinking, Zuko’s tried to kill them a dozen times. He’s not _on their side._

He bites his lip, trying to focus. There’s a street full of Ba Sing Se citizens still watching them, Jet still has his hook swords, and Zuko’s still wearing an apron. 

“Look,” Sokka says to Jet, showing his palms. “Jet, just leave him alone, all right? He’s not a firebender, and you seriously need to chill out. Ba Sing Se is, like, the safest place in the world if you’re trying to avoid the Fire Nation, why do you think we’re here?” The Fire Nation thing is only kind of a lie, but the last part is _really_ a lie. Appa’s around here somewhere, but if Zuko catches wind of that fact then Sokka’s sure they’re never going to see that bison again. 

Jet doesn’t move. Time for the big guns. 

“If you really want me to get my sister so she can tell you I’m not lying…” Sokka tries to punch a little defeat into his voice, like he really doesn’t want to get Katara involved— it’s easy, because he _really doesn’t want to get Katara involved._

Neither, apparently, does Jet. He lowers his hook swords, sheathes them behind his back, and bends to pick up his piece of grass. “Fine,” he says, stuffing the thing back between his teeth. Sokka wrinkles his nose because _gross,_ dude, does Jet know how many fireferrets and camelephants have walked on this street in just the last couple hours? 

Zuko visibly deflates in relief, shoulders sagging. Sokka notices his hands stay steady on his swords.

“I’m watching you, though,” Jet says, pointing between the two of them. “If I catch wind of anything— _anything—_ I’m going straight to the Dai Li.” 

Zuko inflates again, and for a second Sokka’s sure he’s about to spit fire out of his mouth. But he just watches Jet turn on his heel and stalk away into the dark streets. He doesn’t take his hands off his swords until Jet turns a corner and vanishes from sight. 

The crowd disperses, now that the promise of a scene is gone. Sokka lingers, thumb resting on the top of his boomerang. 

“So,” he says, once they’re more or less alone. “Fancy seeing you here, huh?” 

“Shut up,” Zuko growls. Sokka’s almost glad to see him again, the real Zuko, the one not pretending to be a gay non-bending teashop attendant.

“Uh, you don’t get to tell me that,” Sokka says. “You know, after I saved your butt back there.” 

“I saved my own—” Zuko fumes, folding his arms and leaning on the tea shop wall. “Whatever,” he grumbles. “I could have taken him in a fight.”

“Didn’t look like you wanted one,” Sokka points out. Even now, Zuko’s hands are still folded, the swords at his side. “That’s kinda out of character, don’t you think?” 

“Shut _up,”_ Zuko says again. 

“I don’t think I’m gonna,” Sokka tells him, matter-of-fact and smug. “So, what’s your plan? Lie low and take the city from the inside? Ooh, were you waiting for Aang to show up so you could use him as a hostage to get the city to surrender?” He counts off each option with his fingertips, and watches Zuko’s scowl get deeper and deeper. “Are you gonna poison the whole town with your tea and then charge everyone eighteen gold pieces for the remedy? Wait, no, that’s too evil even for you.” 

_“Shut up!”_ Zuko roars, and Sokka swears he can see steam actually puff out from Zuko’s ears. “I’m just— working here, all right?” Face red on all sides for once, he lowers his voice. “I wasn’t lying. Uncle and I are…” He hesitates, then— “We’re refugees now.”

“Wow, yeah, I totally believe you.” Sokka snorts. And sure, it might be weird that Zuko’s still talking to him and not, yknow, trying to kill him or demand where Aang is, but… come on. He can’t just _leave Zuko here._ In the _city._ Where Aang is _living._ “Okay,” he says, making up his mind. “Here’s the plan.”

Zuko blinks. 

“I don’t believe you, obviously,” Sokka says. “But fine. If you wanna pretend like you’re working in a teashop, be my guest. But I’m gonna keep an eye on you.” 

Zuko looks like he wants to die.

“I’m not gonna sneak around like a creep, don’t worry,” Sokka says, waving his hands. “Jet’s got that covered already, don’t you think?” 

That gets Zuko’s attention. He narrows his eyes, glancing at the streets that twist around them. Jet has more than enough experience hopping through trees and avoiding detection. He’s probably more comfortable sneaking around Ba Sing Se than any of them. 

_“So,”_ Sokka says, and this is the best part, where he gets to unveil his master plan—

“You want us to actually date,” Zuko says, before Sokka can get another word in.

Sokka has to try very hard not to grab his boomerang and chuck it at Zuko’s head, which looks very boomerang-able right now. Unveiling plans is his _thing,_ and Zuko’s just ruined it. “Yes,” he snaps. “Until we leave Ba Sing Se.”

“And how long is that, exactly?”

“Oh,” Sokka says, “you know. Long enough.”

Zuko frowns. He’s probably piecing together the fact that Sokka doesn’t know how long they’re going to stay in the city, which means they’re here for something specific, and also means that they don’t have a concrete well-timed plan in mind. Fantastic. 

Once he’s done figuring out just how much of an idiot Sokka is, Zuko pinches his nose. “This is a terrible idea.” 

“This was _your_ idea.”

 _"My—"_ Zuko's jaw goes rigid. A million different things play out over his face. Sokka’s never realized it before, but a lot of Zuko’s grumpy faces are actually distinct from one another. In the span of about five seconds he reads _frustrated, defensive, enraged, exasperated,_ and finally _resigned._

Right on time, they hear something crash from inside the tea shop. A voice that Sokka doesn’t recognizes calls out Zuko’s fake name. Seriously, _Lee_ is about as inconspicuous as wandering into the Southern Water Tribe and calling yourself _blubber._

“I have to go,” Zuko growls. “Just—” He checks the streets again, in a manner that suggests he’s gotten very used to checking his surroundings for threats. Sokka files that detail away for later. “Fine,” Zuko says finally. “Meet me by the Firelight Fountain at midnight tomorrow. We’ll—” His face visibly wrinkles in disgust. “Talk.”

And then he vanishes into the tea shop without another word. 

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my docs for ages and I wanted to give it some fresh air. No plans for finishing this rn but you never know! Quarantine's been [churning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25520884) out the [pages](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260621)


End file.
